catharsis

by half past ...

the whooshing breezes 

that tossed round me 

in cathartic, good-natured gales 

on gusts of exhalation,

had blown out to sea,

and all that was left 

of the buoyant blasts 

that had, exuberantly, swept 

the shore, the dock 

– and all on it – 

into ship shape

was the, occasional, 

flutter ripple remnant: 

stragglers that would 

have to scurry fast to catch 

the great spirit wind ...

that moves with wings of time 

note:  posted for Poets United.

  
photo:  The Spirit Wind - W. Bourke 

© 2015 Wendy Bourke

road to nowhere

the road pretended to lead 
somewhere, mischievously –

but i went along with it, anyway

– gathering my thoughts –  

knowing there would be no destination

greenery splashed and speckled capriciously
and the surroundings took on the illusion
of an unfolding pillared place – but open ended
. . . a breezy open winding space

from time to time, light scattered
in broken prisms, struck by a wizard's wand

and as i rambled on, i came atop a breathless hill
and caught sight of a small, ordinary pond

where the fragrance of cedar and wet earth
remain yet, more permanent in my mind
than if set down in pen and ink 

for i thought it smelled like freedom . . .
if freedom had a scent . . . standing there
– wrapped in wild woods, under heaven – 
on a road that led nowhere

note:  posted for "Poets United".

photo:  Road to Nowhere - W. Bourke

© 2015 Wendy Bourke